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Mangoes! – August 2, 2007
What’s the best way to start a brawl among Indians? Don’t ask them to discuss India-Pakistan relations. Ask them which state has the best mangoes! Each state grows its own variety of mango, and every person will defend his or her state’s mangoes to the bitter end.
By landing in India in the middle of July, we arrived to enjoy the last half of the mango season. I cannot even begin to describe the bliss of eating two or three mangoes each day.
When people told me how good the mangoes in India were, I remained a bit skeptical. They claimed you couldn’t find anything in the US that matched even the worst mango in India.
I thought the small yellow Mexican mangoes were pretty good, especially if you bought them at the right time. And they weren’t even that expensive—$1 per mango. But it’s true—the mangoes in India are far superior. And they’re unbelievably cheap—Rs. 40 per kilogram, which is about 25 cents per mango! I have tried three varieties from our local Malviya Nagar market: the langdra (from Uttar Pradesh), the chosa (from West Bengal), and the safeda (also from UP, I believe). |
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The Famous UP Langdra Mango |
Each is wonderfully sweet and juicy, and the flesh inside is creamy, in a soft, fruity sort of way. Incredibly, the mangoes here contain almost no raisha (the stringy fibers attached to the seed, which is called a gootli).
What I found most surprising is that each variety, like wine, has a unique flavor:
▪ The langdra features notes of juniper berries.
▪ The chalsa opens with a taste of honey-cinnamon.
▪ The safeda offers hints of honey-coated cantaloupe.
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I have yet to try the joosla, a small yellow mango that you “eat” by cutting off the top and sucking out the juice. Nor have I tried the alfonso (the Bombay mango), but I’m not sure if they even sell alfonsos in Delhi. (In true India mango rivalry, Delhi-ites declare the alfonso nearly inedible.) Aside from eating mangoes plain, they go brilliantly with vanilla ice cream. (Mother Dairy vanilla goes best.) They can also be used to make a mango lassi, a “milkshake” made from mango pulp and dahi (yogurt). |
The Chasla Mango |
One important note: eating mangoes can be dangerous! If you have a mango recently plucked from the tree, you can see sap seeping from the nub where it was attached to the limb.
If the sap-seeping nub isn’t completely removed from the fruit and if you gnaw on the gootli (which is really quite fun, tasty, and messy) and if the sap touches your lip, you will receive a “burn” from the sap. You feel the sap almost immediately; it’s like getting a tiny brush burn on your lip.
I had heard about this phenomenon but didn’t believe it until it happened to me. The burn spot, about the size of a large pea, lasted for three days. It wasn’t all that painful, just a little bothersome and slightly embarrassing because everyone could tell I had a run-in with mango sap—a clear sign of gluttonous mango consumption.
For me, the ultimate question is How much longer will the mango season last? I’m afraid to ask because I’d rather not know the answer. (I’m happy living under the delusion that it will last forever.) Unlike the US, the fruits in India are seasonal, which means once the local trees stop producing the fruit, it won’t be available again until the next season. In many cases, the next season is 10 or 11 months away. |
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A Cut Chasla Mango (Click to enlarge) |
Of course, the seasonal nature of the fruit might explain why it’s so fantastic in India—unlike the US, fruit isn’t picked before it ripens and shipped in a refrigerated container that prevents it from ripening. When the fruit here is available, it’s always ripe, fresh, and totally refreshing.
The mangoes alone are worth enduring the mid-summer heat. Okay, so unlike the rest of Delhi, I don’t find the heat a problem; I don’t even find it that hot—but that’s another blog for another time.
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